


taking it higher and higher

by lotts (LottieAnna)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, M/M, ft. occasional appearances by Hot Lifeguard Tyler Seguin™
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 06:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13675872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts
Summary: “Man, I say this every year, but this is gonna be the best fucking summer,” Mitch says.Auston’s a little embarrassed by how much he believes him.(Or:Wet Hot Canadian Summer.Sort of.)





	taking it higher and higher

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firedoor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firedoor/gifts).



> IF YOU FOUND THIS THROUGH GOOGLING, KNOW ANYONE MENTIONED IN THIS STORY PERSONALLY, OR ARE MENTIONED YOURSELF: please, please click away. This is a work of fiction and nothing written in this story is true. Any accurate information used in this story is publicly available information about public figures, the rest is made up, 100%.
> 
> ages ago Tots suggested a Mitch/Auston camp counselor AU after they watched Wet Hot American Summer, which also happens to be my favorite movie, AND i went to that exact type of summer camp for five years, so i started this. it took me forever to finish, but it's here at last. initially this was gonna be like, a WHAS au? but that movie is... very weird, to say the least, and doesn't quite lend itself to an AU. there are a few callouts to it though! this fic wouldn't exist without that movie! other summer camp details are taken directly from my own (awful) experience. really just self-indulgent summer shenanigans tho! title from "Higher and Higher" as heard in [Wet Hot American Summer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iYf3nqYQXDI) and in [Wet Hot American Summer First Day Of Camp](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aIWOMpYD3AE). Thank you to Susie and Tots, who cheered this along back in October, and Ash and Ftc, for catching all my mistakes. 
> 
> [Hey! Tots! This is for you.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YxU2GIlzVH8) i hope you like this even a fraction as much as i love you.

Mitch Marner has gone to Camp Firewood for the last eight summers. 

He went there as a kid, and now he’s working there, and Auston’s known this since Chucky had shown him the picture of their group from last summer, complaining about everyone in it individually, even though Auston hadn’t known any of them, because he’d spent the summer at home. 

“That’s Marns,” Chucky had said. “Mitch Marner. He’s gone there since forever, and acts like he’s, like, an expert.” 

“He seems happy,” Auston said, which was dumb, because it was a posed picture, and everyone smiles in those. 

“He is,” Chucky said. “So fucking peppy.” 

“Really seems like your type of dude,” Auston said. 

Chucky had shrugged. “Honestly, he was an alright guy.” 

Auston was gonna say, like, that makes sense, except all he knew about this dude was what his face looked like in one photograph, and that would be weird. 

* * *

Camp counselor jobs pay, like, a shitton of money, plus room and board for 8 weeks, so it’s really a no-brainer.

Then, he gets paired with Mitch Marner as his co-counselor, and Chucky laughs for, like, way too long, which is not fair, because Auston hasn’t mentioned finding Mitch cute to him, like, ever. And it’s not like Auston  _ likes  _ the guy. He’s never met him, and Auston thinks it would be weird to have a crush on a guy who he’s only seen a picture of, and maybe Facebook stalked, once. 

A couple times. 

Whatever, he’s cute, and he posts funny shit on Chucky’s wall sometimes, and Auston had commented once, and Mitch had liked the comment, and Auston had maybe smiled for, like, twenty minutes. 

Whatever, what the fuck does Chucky even know. 

 

Auston doesn’t actually meet Mitch until the day they move in. 

He smiles at Auston, then manages to bring up the fact that he’d been a camper within, like, a sentence. 

“Back in the day, top bunks were the goal,” he says. “Like, we all wanted to keep coming back until we became counselors just so we could get a top bunk, someday.” 

“You can have it,” Auston says. 

“Actually?” Mitch says, his face lighting up, and Auston would chirp him for it if he knew him better, and didn’t find it so cute. 

“Go for it,” Auston says. “Live your dream, dude.” 

“I like you so much better than Chucky,” Mitch says. 

“I’m telling him you said that,” Auston says. 

“Go for it,” Mitch says, smiling. “Man, I say this every year, but this is gonna be the best fucking summer.” 

Auston’s a little embarrassed by how much he believes him. 

 

Mitch has a lot of friends, and they hang out in the bunk a lot. Dylan Strome and Connor McDavid are gonna be in charge of the youngest kids, which means they’re making more money than Auston and Mitch, but also means they have to deal with, like, 7-year-olds. Auston doesn’t even know if he could hold a conversation with a 7-year-old, but they seem unconcerned. 

“Don’t they get homesick?” Auston asks. 

“I mean, everyone gets homesick,” Connor says. “Even the older kids, a bit.” 

Auston and Mitch are dealing with 12-year-olds, which means Mitch is getting a lot of kids from last year. Currently, Mitch and Auston are making bed signs, and Mitch insists on drawing smiley faces every time Auston dots an ‘i.’ It’s very sweet, and definitely a veteran summer camp counselor move.

“Stromer brought a teddy bear to camp our last summer,” Mitch says. 

Dylan rolls his eyes. “Still have him, asshole. He’s not a teddy bear, he’s—” 

“—bunk mascot, we know,” Mitch says, then looks up to stick his tongue out at Dylan, who hits him with a pillow. 

“I think it’s cute,” Connor says, then puts his hand on top of Dylan’s, which gets Dylan to blush.

“Adorable,” Mitch deadpans. 

 

Mitch isn’t there for counselor lifeguard training, because that’s Auston’s job. Connor McDavid is there, too, along with Chucky, who Auston stands next to.

The head lifeguard’s name is Tyler, and he makes Auston kind of get the appeal of Baywatch. 

“Jesus christ,” Auston mutters. 

“I know,” Chucky says. “He has dogs, too.” 

“More than one?” Auston asks. 

“Two,” Chucky says, nodding solemnly. 

“Three, now,” Connor says. “He got a yellow one.” 

“So now he has—” Chucky starts. 

“One of each color,” Connor confirms. 

“That’s rough,” Auston says, and he doesn’t realize it’s a pun until Chucky elbows him. 

 

“So, move-in is tomorrow at 8,” says Mo. He’s head counselor for their group, and seems very well-suited to the position. “So, dress for parents, which means polo shirts and lanyards. Try and hang around and be helpful, reassure them that their kids are in good hands, and once the parents are gone, start an icebreaker in here.” 

“Last day of peace and quiet,” Mitch says, kind of wistful, and he leans his head on Auston’s shoulder. 

“These bunks are creepy when they’re empty,” Auston says. 

“Yeah, they’re haunted,” Mitch says. 

“No, they’re not,” Mo says. “And you cannot tell campers that.” 

“It’s a nice ghost!” Mitch protests. “He just likes to fuck with the bunks, scare the campers.” 

“How nice can he be, then?” Auston asks. 

“Well, he’s kind of a dick, but he’s not, like, walking the earth with unfinished business, or whatever,” Mitch says. 

“Do you want to give a 12-year-old nightmares?” Mo asks. 

“Obviously not,” Mitch says. “I was kidding, Matts, the bunk isn’t haunted.” 

Mo seems satisfied with that, but the next time he looks down at his clipboard, Mitch mouths,  _ it’s definitely haunted.  _

Auston has to put his hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing. 

 

Move-in day is… something.

“I’ve never seen this many people crying in my life,” Auston says. 

“Wait until the last day of camp,” Mo says, clapping a hand on Auston’s shoulder. 

A few yards away, three tween girls shriek in excitement at seeing each other for the first time in ten months, and Auston and Mo both wince. 

 

Auston has just said goodbye to the last set of parents, even though they were supposed to leave an hour and a half ago, when Mitch comes up to him with two of their campers. 

“So,” Mitch says, smiling mischievously. “Counselor piggyback race?” 

“I mean, sure, if you feel like losing,” Auston says, and the kids crack up like it’s the funniest joke they’ve ever heard. 

“Oh, big words from this guy, eh?” Mitch says, and it’s kind of a chirp, but he’s also, like, beaming. 

“Mitch won last year,” one of the boys says. Auston’s pretty sure his name is Greg. 

“Against Chucky?” Auston asks, and the kids nod. “Yeah, that’s easy. I’m much faster than Chucky.” 

“Mitch is really fast,” the other boy—Sean?—informs Auston. 

“I am,” Mitch says. 

“Well, may the best counselor win,” Auston says. 

Auston carries Greg, and Mitch carries Sean, and they do best of three. 

Mitch wins the first one, but then Auston wins the second, and the third feels kind of like a tie, but Mitch declares Auston the obvious winner. 

“It’s a lesson in sportsmanship,” Mitch says. 

“Sneaky,” Auston says, impressed, and Mitch blushes, looking pleased. 

“I’d definitely beat you if we raced for real,” Mitch says. “Just so you know.” 

“Dream big, man,” Auston says, throwing an arm around Mitch as they make their way back to the cabin. 

 

Mitch doesn’t sit next to Auston during the formal full-camp opening night bonfire, but he looks at Auston and smiles, a couple of times. 

 

Later, after the campers are all asleep and Auston’s halfway there himself, he feels someone poking at his leg, and he’s expecting a homesick kid, but instead he finds Mitch. 

Auston gives him a confused look, but Mitch hands him a note that says,  _ after-hours counselor bonfire b there or b square.  _

He looks at Mitch, who raises an eyebrow at him, and then he shrugs, and Mitch’s smile shines impossibly bright in the dark cabin. 

They sneak out of the bunk quietly, and Auston’s vaguely wondering if he’s gonna get, like, fired over this, because they’d been pretty strict about things during orientation, but Auston trusts Mitch to not do something phenomenally stupid. The camp feels quieter than it has all day, but the sound of the crickets and the lake and the woods make it seem less empty. 

“This is okay, by the way,” Mitch says, once the door has closed behind them. “Like, Mo knows we’re going, and he agreed to stick back and patrol both bunks and stuff.” 

“Oh,” Auston says. “That’s nice of him.”

“Yeah,” Mitch says. “I mean, I offered, but he knows I like it, I guess.” 

“I could’ve,” Auston says. 

Mitch gives him a look like he’s just said something completely absurd. “No way. This is, like, one of the top five counselor traditions, I wasn’t gonna let you miss out on it.” 

“Oh,” Auston says, and he smiles, pleased. 

 

Mitch breaks apart from Auston when they get there, to say hi to a couple of the guys he hasn’t gotten to see yet, but he smiles at him as he does it, and a few seconds later, Chucky finds him and throws an arm over his shoulder. 

“So, is co-counseloring with Marner everything you’ve ever dreamed it would be?” Chucky asks. 

“Heard he beat you in a piggyback race last year,” Auston says, instead of answering the question. 

Chucky starts ranting about how Mitch had some aerodynamic advantage, and the whole thing sounds like a load of bullshit, so Auston teases him about being a sore loser, figuring it’s what he deserves.

The bonfire is fun. Lifeguard Tyler brings his dogs, and Jamie, the arts and crafts counselor, brings a guitar and pretty much plays whatever song Tyler asks him to. Auston chats with Dylan and Connor for a bit, and then with some of the other counselors he’s met, but then Mitch makes his way back to his side, once people start to settle in around the fire. 

“Having fun?” Mitch asks. His pinky is kind of on top of Auston’s, and Auston tries not to read into it too much. 

“Yeah,” Auston says. “I’m kinda surprised they haven’t played ‘Wonderwall’ yet, honestly.”

“That’s only because the singalong hasn’t begun,” Mitch says. 

“You’re fucking with me,” Auston says. 

“Promise I’m not,” Mitch says. “Pinky swear.” He holds up his hand. 

“That’s some serious stuff,” Auston says, locking their pinkies together. “You better be serious about this.” 

“You don’t go into your ninth summer at camp not respecting the sanctity of the pinky swear,” Mitch says. 

Sure enough, it’s the second song they play, once everyone’s done chatting and is gathered around the fire, and Auston laughs as Mitch kind of bops his head in a way that’s both very dumb-looking and incredibly cute. 

 

“I didn’t realize it would get this cold at night,” Auston says, on their way back to the bunk. 

“Yeah, it’s the lake,” Mitch says. “Do you wanna, like, borrow my hoodie?” 

“Will it fit?” Auston asks, skeptical. 

Mitch shrugs, then he takes it off, and Auston tries not to stare at the way Mitch’s t-shirt rides up. 

It’s a little too small on Auston, but it’s warm, and Mitch smiles when he sees him in it, so he wears it all the way back to the bunk. 

 

(Here’s what happens the first week of camp: 

-The boys all pass their swim tests, and Tyler the Lifeguard takes one look at shirtless Mitch and asks if he’s been working out. Auston feels weirdly jealous, until Mitch makes some comment about not being nearly as big as Auston, at which point, Auston stops feeling jealous, and starts feeling many other things instead. 

-Auston learns how to make friendship bracelets, and makes a bunch of them, and every time, he has a miniature crisis over whether or not he should give it to Mitch before he eventually decides to give it to whatever camper asks first. 

-Four of the boys get into a very large fight, and Auston can’t really figure out why, though he’s pretty sure a pair of sneakers and a postage stamp are involved. 

-He gets made fun of ruthlessly for putting ketchup on his scrambled eggs every morning. 

-He gets asked if various plants are poison ivy at least eight different times and answers seriously every time, before he realizes that it’s a joke, at which point he tells Mitch, “I can’t believe they made poison ivy into a meme,” and Mitch laughs so hard he almost falls off the bed. Thankfully, he’s in Auston’s bed, so it’s not like he almost falls from the top bunk, but still. 

-Mitch doesn’t ask for his hoodie back.)

 

“Wait, the kids actually… date?” Auston asks, as they sit in the canteen and watch their campers, along with the corresponding girls’ group, go back and forth between ping pong, air hockey, and awkward conversation. 

Mitch shrugs, taking another bite of his Klondike bar. “I mean, they’re almost teenagers. It’s mostly just, like, cute. Lots of first kisses.” 

“Oh,” Auston says. “Still, that’s young.” 

Mitch shrugs, and Matt Martin smirks. 

“That’s how old Mitchy was,” Marty teases. 

Mitch blushes. “Fuck off,” he says. 

“Aw, no, it was adorable,” Marty says. “Marns and Stromer, sittin’ in a tr—” he starts, but he’s cut off by Mitch stepping very hard on his foot. 

“Wait,” Auston says, grinning. 

“Literally, shut  _ up,”  _ Mitch says, rolling his eyes. “We were twelve.” 

“He wasn’t already with Connor back then?” Auston asks. 

“Believe it or not, no,” Mitch says. “There was a time before Dyls and Davo were, like, Dyls and Davo,” he says, doing a gesture that reminds Auston vaguely of jazz hands.

“And back then,” Marty says, dramatic, as he claps a hand on Mitch’s shoulder, “Young love flourished.” 

“Sounds adorable,” Auston says. 

“It wasn’t,” Mitch says. 

“It was, in its own way,” Marty says. “Lots of drama.” 

“Drama?” Auston says, putting his elbow on the table and resting his chin in his hand. 

“You’re the worst,” Mitch says to Marty, and then, to Auston, “I don’t even remember half of it.” 

“There were projectiles involved,” Marty says. 

“There were  _ not,”  _ Mitch says. “You’re such a fucking liar.”

“You literally threw a hamburger at him,” Marty says. 

“But that wasn’t—” Mitch starts, and then he furrows his brow. “Wait.” 

“It was,” Marty says, raising both his eyebrows.

“Huh,” Mitch says, and then he shrugs. “Alright, fair enough.” 

“Jeez, 12-year-old Mitchy had some beef,” Auston says. 

“Well, he probably deserved it,” Mitch says, and he’s about to take another bite of his ice cream sandwich when he pauses, turns to Auston, and fixes him with a thoroughly horrified look. “Wow, that was awful.” 

Auston smiles, a little too pleased with himself. 

“I respect it,” Marty says, holding out a fist for Auston to bump, which he does. 

“Of course you do,” Mitch says, shaking his head, but Auston can see the corners of his mouth twitch up involuntarily, so as far as bad jokes go, Auston thinks this one is pretty successful.

 

So it’s not like things start to go  _ wrong  _ on the 4th of July. 

It’s just… things start to go something, and that something is probably gonna turn into a bigger thing, Auston thinks. 

It starts out innocently enough, honestly, if your idea of ‘innocence’ can somehow be reconciled with the truly absurd way Hot Lifeguard Tyler is eating a firecracker pop. 

Chucky, like, openly gapes at him, but Auston has the decency to pretend not to stare. Mitch, somehow, manages to hold an actual conversation with him, and Auston is thoroughly impressed.

 

But—fireworks. 

Mitch and Auston are sitting next to each other, because Mo is in charge of the kids who don’t like fireworks, and Auston almost volunteers in his place, except then, Mitch starts talking about how much he loves fireworks, and Auston figures that Mo is probably more comforting for this sort of thing. 

Or—no, Auston doesn’t think about it that way until the rest of them are settling down on the grass, pretending not to notice as two of the campers unsubtly tie his shoes together, but when he thinks it, he tells himself that that’s the reason, that’s why he’s not with the kids who are freaked by loud noises, even though he’s kind of ambivalent about fireworks himself. And when he thinks it, he feels relieved, like he has a good reason for being here besides just, like, wanting to be here. 

He tries not to think too much about it, and that works for a bit, because there are 12-year-olds starting to get rowdy, and Auston and Mitch have to keep an eye on them, but they calm down once the actual fireworks start, because it’s too loud for them to bicker, and anyway, the fireworks are pretty. 

Except Auston isn’t quite looking at the fireworks. 

It’s bright, so Auston’s looking down, for a second, and Mitch’s pinky is a few inches from his own at most, and then Auston can’t stop thinking about that, so he looks at Mitch’s face instead, which is smiling and lighting up all sorts of different colors, and—

Well, Auston’s smart enough to look back at the fireworks then. 

 

“Is it true Mitch threw a hamburger at you once?” Auston asks Dylan Strome one night. 

“Yep,” Dylan says, almost wistful. “The real kicker was the ketchup thing, though.” 

“The ketchup thing?” Auston asks. 

“He wanted to squirt it on my head, but he couldn’t reach,” Dylan explains. “He stood on a bench.” 

“Wow,” Auston says.

“Yeah, he was small back then,” Dylan says. “It was probably cute, but I was mostly just pissed.” 

“Aw,” Auston says, grinning a little too fondly until Dylan gives him a knowing look.

 

The rule is: co-counselors can’t do anything romantic, at all, while they’re acting as counselors. 

That’s, like, the written rule. Realistically, that’s not the case; Dylan and Davo had a fuckton of meetings with camp management, so they’re, like, a legit exception, and beyond that, plenty of people just break the rules. The bigger concern, honestly, is the campers seeing it, or having weird counselor drama happen, because there isn’t time for weird counselor drama when there’s already so much weird camper drama. 

Auston and Mitch have a period off together, so they’re the only two in the bunk. Currently, Auston’s lying on his bed, and Mitch is absently carding a finger through Auston’s hair as he waits for the Jays score to load on his phone, which is taking forever, thanks to shitty camp cell service. It’s nice, and a little past friendly, in the way things with Mitch tend to be, and Auston idly thinks about kissing him. 

“We should go to a game,” Mitch says, “in the fall.” 

“What?” Auston asks, furrowing his brow. 

Mitch turns to Auston, kind of blushing. “We’re going to be in the same city, I dunno. Could be fun.” 

It’s the most normal plan imaginable, and Auston probably should not be, like, shaking with excitement. “Sure, yeah.” 

“Cool,” Mitch says, smiling, casual and fond, and Auston doesn’t know if he’s ever wanted to kiss someone this badly in his life. 

 

(That’s not really anything that shocking, though. 

Like, it’s—Mitch is charming, and funny, and overflowing with this genuine affection that makes Auston’s knees weak, but, like, only a little, and it’s not like Auston’s the only one with weak knees. Half the camp has weak knees for Mitch, probably. 

It’s just—that’s the kind of guy Mitch is, and Auston can’t be blamed for liking the most likable guy he’s ever met, or wanting to kiss the most kissable mouth he’s ever seen. He’s not going to, but, like, he’s only human.) 

 

Chucky declares that their groups are officially rivals, which Auston thinks is dumb at first, but then their group plays basketball against Chucky’s, and Auston gets the appeal, because going up against Chucky is pretty fun. There’s lots of trash talk, mostly in low voices, because they’re supposed to be role models, and 12-year-olds are, like, scary-good at pouncing whenever they hear something counselors aren’t supposed to say. 

Thankfully, they’re not caught by any of the kids, and they win, too, which means Auston and Mitch get bragging rights forever. Mitch pounces on Auston in celebration, and it’s maybe a little much, but all the counselors laugh, and the campers have a fucking field day with it, so Auston kind of twirls him, and only thinks about kissing him a little, which he thinks is pretty impressive.

“You know,” Chucky says later, when it’s just the two of them, “I worked with him for an entire summer, and he never jumped into my arms.” 

“It’s ‘cause you’re weak,” Auston says, but Chucky doesn’t even respond to the chirp, which, rude. 

“Dude, I know you guys are like, good friends,” Chucky says, “but if this is—” 

“It’s nothing,” Auston says. 

“You sure? Like, I know I was teasing, but if you guys are actually a thing, you can, like, tell me,” Chucky says.

“We’re not,” Auston says. “For real, it’s—like, promise.” 

“But you dig each other,” Chucky says, raising his eyebrows at Auston. 

Auston shrugs. “I mean, I—whatever, don’t worry about it.” 

“I’ll try not to let it keep me up at night,” Chucky says, rolling his eyes. 

 

“Marns,” Mo says, slowly, “are you wearing Auston’s shirt?” 

“Oh, I guess,” Mitch says, tugging at the fabric, and then he turns to Auston and shrugs. “Sorry.” 

“You’re good,” Auston says, and tries not to blush, because this is—it’s not an accusation, but it’s also not  _ not  _ an accusation. It’s a subtle one, though, and Auston shouldn’t feel like he’s been caught, because they haven’t done anything wrong, but he kind of does, anyway. 

Mo doesn’t bring it up again, though, so apparently Auston has some capacity to be subtle about this. 

(“You can keep that shirt,” Auston blurts out later. 

“Huh?” Mitch says, and Auston is probably imagining the way his cheeks go kind of pink.

“Like, it’s too small on me,” Auston says, which isn’t really true, but, like, whatever. “So, if you want it, I mean. You can.” 

The corners of Mitch’s mouth go up, a little. “I guess I will, if it doesn’t fit you.” 

“It doesn’t.”  _ Payback for the hoodie,  _ Auston thinks, but he doesn’t say that out loud, because that might mean he’d have to give it back.) 

 

Auston might be avoiding this because of the whole co-counselor thing. He might be avoiding it because he doesn’t know how Mitch feels in return. He might be avoiding it because he just, like, avoids things, because it’s easier than the alternative. 

In any case, he’s avoiding it, for now. 

In the meantime, Mitch continues to touch Auston a lot, be adorable with kids, and look incredibly good during free swim. It’s gotten to the point where Mitch is honestly more distracting than Hot Lifeguard Tyler, which is, like, pretty impressive. 

 

So, they perform “Livin’ On A Prayer” for the end-of-summer talent show, because it’s their bunk’s song, and their kids pretty much beg them to.

And that’s all well and good, and it’s fun and goofy and Mitch looks so good, and Auston knows that he’ll look blatantly fond and dopey in every fucking picture, and he’s okay with that, and he’s more than okay with the big, dramatic hug Mitch gives him at the end, but it’s a little too much when they’re alone backstage, and Auston’s about to walk out and back into the audience, but Mitch grabs his hands, pulls him back into the dark. 

“Wait,” Mitch whispers, and Auston can just barely make out his expression, but what he can see is serious, almost determined. 

Auston opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. 

“Thanks for doing the song,” Mitch says. 

Auston nods. “It was fun.” 

“It was.” Mitch takes a step forward, and Auston steps back. 

“Mitch—” he starts. 

“Shit,” Mitch curses, squeezing his eyes shut. “Sorry, I shouldn’t—” 

“What’re you—”

“Just—never mind,” Mitch says. 

Auston nods, a little dazed, because he’s not really sure he didn’t imagine what just happened.

They walk out into the light of the makeshift playhouse and are immediately attacked with cheers and chirps from their campers, and Mitch smiles like everything’s normal. 

 

That night, Auston doesn’t sleep, and apparently neither does Mitch, because at some point, Auston hears him get up and out of bed, stays as still as he can while Mitch rustles around, and then, quickly and quietly as anything, Mitch is closing the door to the bunk. 

Auston doesn’t even think before following him. 

Mitch is against the side of the bunk, his arms crossed, and his eyes are closed; Auston thinks he’s breathing slowly, maybe doing some meditation-type thing. He takes a second to watch him, because he doesn’t really get many of those, because they’re never alone, and that’s the whole problem, really. They never get time to themselves that they don’t have to steal, and Auston wants hours of just him and Mitch without campers, without other counselors, without activities to worry about and having to watch their backs. 

But, he has this, even if it’s just a few minutes in the dead of night, and he’s gonna take it.

Auston kicks some gravel, and Mitch opens his eyes, looks around before seeing Auston, who holds up a hand awkwardly, then walks over to him. 

“Hi,” Mitch says, his eyes wide. “Sorry, I—um. I’m sorry.”  

Auston stares at Mitch, and Mitch just stares back. 

“I don’t want to make things weird,” Mitch says. 

“You—” Auston blinks, once. “What were you going to do? Backstage?” 

“I mean,” Mitch shrugs. “You know.” 

“No I don’t,” Auston says. “What was it?” 

Mitch purses his lips. “Something stupid.” 

“You do stupid stuff all the time,” Auston says, giving Mitch a small smile, and Mitch returns it, but it’s kind of sad. 

“Not this kind of stupid,” he says, and he looks at the ground. 

There’s a second of silence, and Auston’s waiting to see if Mitch says anything else, but he doesn’t so Auston asks, “Do you want me to leave?”

Mitch shrugs. “If you want to, sure.” 

“I don’t,” Auston says. 

Mitch looks up at Auston. “You don’t.”

Auston shakes his head. 

“Why not?” Mitch asks.

“I don’t know,” Auston says. “I just don’t want this to—I don’t know.” 

Mitch studies his face for a second. “You don’t want this to… what?” 

“To end, I guess,” Auston says, and his entire face is hot. 

Mitch just keeps staring at him, doesn’t move his face, and Auston can’t even begin to guess what he’s thinking. It’s this painfully long silence, and it feels even bigger than it is, because it’s night, and they’re enveloped in a stillness that Auston’s not used to. 

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Mitch asks, slow and calm, “If you don’t want to leave, then what do you want to do?”

Auston, because he’s a fucking idiot, lets his eyes flicker down to Mitch’s lips. “Something stupid, probably.” 

“Oh,” Mitch says. “So you—”

“I’m sorry,” Auston asks. “Sorry, I just—” he takes a step towards Mitch. “I didn’t want you to think—from earlier. That I didn’t want to.” 

“It was a bad idea,” Mitch says. “It would’ve been—that’s not really what I want.” 

“What do you mean?” Auston asks.

“I want to do things right,” Mitch says. “Like, not just—I was gonna wait until after camp.” 

“Oh,” Auston says. 

“Yeah,” Mitch says. “I hope that’s okay.” 

“What’s okay?” 

“Waiting.” 

“Oh,” Auston says. “You mean, just, one more day?” 

“Yeah,” Mitch says. 

“Alright,” Auston says. “Once the campers are gone, you can—do whatever.”  

“I mean, I’ll be a gentleman about it,” Mitch says. “I’m probably gonna ask you to dinner.” 

“Like, are we talking McDonald’s, or—” 

“No, asshole, somewhere nice,” Mitch says, smiling. “A real dinner. With, like, silverwear and napkins and shit.” 

“There’s silverwear and napkins in the mess hall,” Auston points out. 

“A place without bug juice,” Mitch says. 

“Sounds fancy,” Auston says. “I’m excited to say yes.” 

“You’re gonna say yes?” Mitch says, like it’s a surprise, somehow. 

“Of course,” Auston says. 

“Oh,” Mitch says, and then he grins a little wider. “That’s—cool, then.” 

“For sure,” Auston says, a little breathless. 

There’s a second where Auston thinks that’s it, that he’s just gonna go back to the bunk and fall asleep and wait with the knowledge that there’s something on pause, except neither of them is moving, still. 

“This is so fucking dumb,” Mitch says, shaking his head a little bit, and before Auston’s brain can process the words, Mitch’s mouth is on his, and Auston’s not quite convinced he’s not dreaming, but he kisses back before he can think too much about it. 

It feels like a lot of things—a culmination, a victory, a beginning, a promise—but above all, it feels fucking  _ good,  _ the way they fit together, Mitch’s hands all over Auston like he’s touching him for the first time. They’ve shared a bunk for weeks, so they should know every inch of each other, but this is different, and they both know it. This is unrestrained, private, secret, and Auston knows that they’ll only have this for a few minutes at most, and that they won’t get their hands on each other for days once they break apart, but he doesn’t fucking care, because for right now, this is enough. He has Mitch, and he knows Mitch wants him, and it’s just really, really great. 

“Alright,” Mitch says, breathing heavily against Auston’s mouth. “Cool, just—one more day. Less than 24 hours.” 

“Long day,” Auston says softly, pressing their foreheads together. 

“We’ll survive,” Mitch says. “Trust me, when we’re surrounded by a bunch of crying kids, kissing will be the last thing on your mind.” 

“At least that will make it easier,” Auston says, and he’s smiling still. He doesn’t think he’s gonna stop anytime soon. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited for camp to end,” Mitch says honestly, and he gives Auston a final closed-mouth kiss. “You wanna go back first?” 

“Whatever you want,” Auston says. 

Mitch smiles. “You go, I like watching you walk away.” 

Auston rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning, fond and excited and only a little tired. “Smooth.” 

“You like it,” Mitch says. “See you in the morning.” 

Auston squeezes his hand one last time before walking away, and if he stumbles over the uneven ground because he can’t stop himself from glancing over his shoulder, the only person there to see it is Mitch, who can’t really hold it against him. 

* * *

So.

Mitch Marner has gone to Camp Firewood for the last nine summers. 

He’s also worked at a coffee shop for the last two years, lived in the Toronto suburbs his entire life, and completed his first year at the same university Auston starts at in the fall—he’s studying to be a teacher, because he likes working with kids. When October rolls around, he pretty much schedules his life around the Leafs, and he will defend any given Toronto sports team with his dying breath. He’s the kind of guy who stops people on the street to ask if he can pet their dog, he’s really close with his family, he loves sweet coffee drinks, and he’s got a million best friends. 

He lives an entire life outside Camp Firewood that Auston doesn’t even begin to learn about until late August, when they’re waiting for classes to start and going on their first date, and then their second date, and then third and fourth and seventh dates, and at some point, Auston stops keeping track of the number.  

“Wanna hear something funny?” Mitch asks, one day in December, as Auston’s carding a hand through his hair. 

“Sure,” he says.  

“I gave you that sweatshirt at the opening campfire,” Mitch says. “Way back at the beginning of summer.” 

“Sorry I never gave it back,” Auston says, smiling. 

“Don’t be,” Mitch says. “I like the way it looks on you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> untagged: background mcstrome, brief appearance by jamie benn, camper oc's
> 
> **Bonus Content:**  
>  -mitch definitely stalked auston's insta when he was looking for old embarrassing pictures for tkachuk's birthday post and came across a picture of the two of them. lowkey mutual internet stalking, a precursor to mutual pining  
> -at the start of the summer mitch and auston both knew they'd be going to school together in the fall, and mitch was vaguely like "oh i'll show you around campus and stuff" but then the camp bubble Consumes Them in case u were wondering!  
> -okay i know that the particular kind of 8 week, everyone-goes-for-a-decade-and-then-sends-their-kids-there, vaguely jewish type of camp that this is based on is a pretty specific institution, but it's what i grew up with and what the movie is about.  
> -at my camp we had to wear socks every time we wore sandals. it was the first place i ever saw adidas slides, and also was the reason i owned birkenstocks. also crocs! anyway mitch has owned all of those shoes, in this au. sorry.  
> -connor and dylan really are out there, at age like 19 or 20, thinking it's a good idea that they be camp counselors together. it works out for them, sure, but objectively it's a _terrible idea_  
>  -tyler seguin. oh boy.  
> -i'm sure there are other people who appear in this au. [tell me this isn't william nylander, i dare you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ms-683_KvLE)


End file.
